Life in Full Swing

She Paints with Water

She paints with water;

Tan, dried buckskin

stretched by four strings attached to a frame

            gives the gift of itself.

She paints with rain;

            Tears of joy shed by clouds

being reunited in a summer storm

            are collected in ornate wooden bowls.

She paints with snow;

            Winter birth in her hands is

reforming, unfolding, and crying,

            because it has betrayed its own season.

She paints with the stream;

            Clear blood from the varicose vein

twists and turns with the land,

            never questioning its purpose or destination.

The work that fades

into one solid shade

lasts only a moment

Until once again

She paints